CHAPTER FIFTY
Several hours later, Jack was in the living room reading Charlotte’s Web to Julia when someone knocked on the side door.
“Who’s that?” asked Julia.
“That would be Investigator Dirkens,” Jack said, looking at Marianna. “He’s done talking to Uncle Tony.”
Marianna rose quickly from the couch. “I will go to your office for a little while,” she said. “I was just texting with my sister. They are safe in France now.”
“Doesn’t Vlada want to meet the investigator?” Julia prodded. “She’s cool. They call her Frankie.”
“Why don’t you come with me, Julia?” Marianna offered. “We can keep reading while your papa talks to her.”
Marianna held out her hand and Julia took it. The knocking came again. Jack limped through the kitchen and opened the door. Zoë had gone to lie down again, her stomach pain having returned. He ushered the investigator inside and offered to get some coffee.
“No time, I’m afraid. I wanted to let you know that we’re talking to Kaitlyn’s classmates and teachers. No leads yet, I’m sorry to say, but it remains a priority. Bryson Witner, unfortunately, is still at large, but the state police and the Feds are going all out.”
“How did it go with my brother?”
“No new information,” she said, glancing at her watch. “We talked a little about archery, which my son is into. He showed me some of his trophies. Impressive. But let’s quickly address the elephant in the room, shall we? What the hell was going on with the sledgehammer and the old car? Is this some new kind of Pilates? My officers filled me in.”
His face warmed. “Bottled up anger mixed with Jack Daniels. I’m fine now. It’s a long story.”
“I’m afraid it’ll have to wait. I’ve got to run, but I’ll call you later. The officers told me that a woman came out and calmed you down. Who was that?”
“Just a house guest. A family friend. I know you’ve got to go, but do you have any news on the fingerprints or DNA yet?”
“We received a bag of items this morning from the apartment in Kyiv. It’s in the FBI lab now. Knock on wood, we’ll have results by tomorrow morning, maybe sooner. And the prints will be here this afternoon. Where’s Zoë, by the way?”
“Not feeling well. Stress, I think. She’s worried about Kaitlyn.”
“We’ll find her.”
As Dirkens reached for the door handle, her phone began chirping. She glanced at the screen. “Hmmm. It’s the chief’s office. I need to take this.”
Soon after answering, a smile bloomed on her face. After hanging up, she gave Jack the news. They’d found the car that Witner took from Patterson in front of a Dave and Buster’s in Raleigh, North Carolina. It was loaded with his fingerprints, and CCTV showed that it had been there since eight forty-five that morning.
“They don’t have him in custody yet, but at least we know he’s a long way away. The chief is going to pull your surveillance officers. Some good news, at any rate.”
He went to the office. It was dark, curtains pulled. Marianna was at the computer, her face bathed in the monitor’s glow. Raising a finger to her lips, she pointed to where Julia lay on a folded blanket in front of the bookcase, covered by the sweater Marianna had been wearing. She beckoned him and said in an intense whisper, “Dr. Forester, you must see something.”
He came behind her. The screenshot that he’d taken last night of the Boston Numismatic Society filled the screen. “Look. You will not believe.” She pointed to one of the individuals in the third row, behind Potemkin. It was the image of a very tall and slender young man standing head and shoulders above the others. The face looked familiar, but he didn’t immediately recognize him. He hadn’t noticed this last night.
She pointed to the caption. “Dr. Lawrence Haines,” she read. “This is the man who was in your office. The leader of Health Wealth.”
Jack straightened, his back muscles tensing. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Good God, Marianna.”
She pulled up another photo. “Here too,” she said. It was of a dining room, men in tuxedos and women in gowns. “This was from the coin club dinner the next year, 1988. See there.” Four men and two women sat around a table laden with glasses. Haines was flanked on either side by Witner and Potemkin, the latter smoking a cigar.
“It cannot be coincidence, Dr. Forester,” she said, keeping her voice just above a whisper. “When that woman murders someone in the hospital, it causes your plan to fail and the plan of Haines to succeed. I found another web page. Look.”
She opened a different window and pulled up an archived newspaper article. “This is a story about Lawrence Haines buying two hospitals and starting his company. Newspaper from Atlanta, 1990. Not too long after the coin club pictures. See, it says he has ‘received additional funding from foreign investors, including the Russian software entrepreneur, Mikhail Potemkin.’”
Marianna’s face was flushed, her nostrils flaring, eyes gleaming. “It is all here,” she said. “If they work together, it explains very much. This is not all for revenge.”
Jack nodded slowly. “Revenge for Witner, power for Haines, profit for Potemkin.”
“Yes. I think this is the story.”
“Marianna, I think we have them. I can’t believe you found this all so quickly. Brilliant work.”
“This is what I do for a living. Research. You don’t tell me yet if the police have gotten my fingerprints or the DNA?”
“Investigator Dirkens is expecting results tomorrow morning or sooner.”
“Good. We will have much to share with them, Dr. Forester.”
“Please call me Jack. I’ve been calling you by your first name.”
“I would be shy to do that,” she said, smiling. “But I will try.”
He glanced back at the monitor. “Marianna, when you met Haines yesterday, did you give him your name?”
“I give the same name I give to everyone except you. Vlada Marina. They are my two middle names. From my two grandmothers.” The computer screen suddenly went blank. “What happened?” she asked.
“Our cable gets glitchy sometimes. Try rebooting.”
Zoë’s called out from the living room. “Jack? We’ve lost the internet again.”
Not wanting to wake Julia, he stepped into the hallway. “Try resetting the modem, Zoë.”
“Were you expecting anyone?” Zoë asked. She was standing by the window. “An SUV is coming up the driveway. The police car’s gone.”